


Trains Sound the Same

by sunnyamazing



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Everyone has a Julia is alive fiction: this is mine, F/M, Introspection, Julia Montague Lives, POV Female Character, POV Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-12-31 05:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21089468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyamazing/pseuds/sunnyamazing
Summary: Trains sound the same the world over.And she wonders if that’s where it all started.With the bloody train.---It feels like a strange sense of deja vu.Like he's been here before.But of course he has, he's been on many trains.But only one that changed his life.





	1. New Julia

**Author's Note:**

> Two weeks have happened since my fall down the Bodyguard rabbit hole and this story has slowly been building since then.  
The very short sentences of the beginning are meant to be like that and this part is shorter than the rest that will follow!
> 
> Shout out to everyone who has welcomed my writing and my rambling comments into the fandom. Much appreciated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The voice.  
He’s not there.  
It was just a dream.  
A dream within another dream.  
He is not here.  
She is alone.

Her heart races inside her chest, her hands shake.

She cannot breathe.

Her breathing comes in gasps.

The stale smell of blood permeates her nostrils.

Everything seems to move in slow motion.

She can hear noise but nothing registers.

It is like a fog.

She feels like she is drowning.

Nothing seems the same.

She cannot seem to gain control.

Then there is a voice that seems to cut through all the other noise.

A male voice, telling her that she is going to be okay.

He tells her that everything is all right.

That it’s just a dream.

There’s a hand on her back, then one on her shoulder.

The hand comforts her.

Reminds her that she isn’t alone.

That she is okay.

Then there is darkness again.

A sharp pain strikes her head.

Her left leg.

One of her arms.

Everything is hot.

It burns.

Her ears ring.

Her head pounds.

But the voice is back.

It is there again.

It says that he is here.

She can feel his hands in her hair.

He tells her that she is going to be okay.

But then the pain in her leg.

It distracts her.

And then he’s gone.

And it’s all black.

**Again. **

\---

Her eyes open.

One shaking hand runs through her hair, her fingers brush over the almost healed scar on the side of her face.

Her left leg which she has been sleeping on, it burns underneath her.

She reaches out in the bed.

But she is alone.

The voice.

He’s not there.

It was just a dream.

A dream within another dream.

He is not here.

She is alone.

She carefully moves her legs.

Pain shoots through one of them and down to her toes.

She winces and then curses.

Just once she’d like one night of dreamless sleep.

Of sleep without pain.

She’d love a leg that doesn’t smart underneath her.

A leg that can hold her entire weight without trembling.

A leg that doesn’t get too hot when only a sheet touches it.

She’d love to go back.

But she can’t.

Because she’s meant to be dead.

Meant to have died.

Died in surgery as they tried to save her.

But they did save her.

And sometimes she wonders if maybe they shouldn’t have.

\--- 

She places a shaky hand on her chest. Her breathing is still shallow. Her hand is cold against her clammy skin. Pain still reverberates down the inside of her leg. She needs to get up. She needs to move.

Carefully, and too slowly for someone of her age she climbs from her bed. She pulls a blanket off the end of her bed and wraps it carefully around her arms. The air is cold. No one told her that it got cold here. She always thought it was warm.

But it isn’t. The air in her flat is cold. A breeze comes from somewhere. She remembers leaving the kitchen window open after dinner.

Her feet gently pad the carpet as she leaves the bedroom. She moves slowly to the kitchen and reaches out to close the window shut. She thinks of her old life and how she daren’t leave any window open back then. But this isn’t her old life, this is her new one. The one where nobody knows her because everyone who did know her believes her to be dead.

She leaves the kitchen behind and takes some small yet somewhat painful steps to the balcony. She imagines that her painkillers have worn off for the night; she sighs loudly. She hates that she now has to rely on them; Julia has never liked to rely on anything.

But maybe that’s the thing, not relying on things, that was the old Julia. She isn't old Julia any longer. In fact, here, in this new place, she’s not Julia at all.

She slides the balcony door open and steps out into the cold night air. She raises her head and stares out at the city skyline in front of her. The buildings she does not yet know. She can see the tallest one, a red light flickering in the darkness.

She breathes in the air; the new smell pushes out the stale. Her heart starts to calm. Finally, she feels like she can breathe again. The balcony begins to shake slightly under her feet. She gazes down at the railway line below her building. She can see a train beginning to approach the station. The sound of the train fills her ears, it pushes out the ringing noise and the sound of his comforting voice.

Instead she can hear rattles and groans; brakes squeaking and wheels on tracks. A low horn as the train announces its arrival. She sighs to herself and wraps the blanket tighter around her body.

Trains sound the same the world over.

And she wonders if that’s where it all started.

With the bloody train. 


	2. New David

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It feels like a strange sense of déjà vu.
> 
> Like he's been here before.
> 
> But of course, he has, he's been on many trains.
> 
> But only one that changed his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written whilst under the influence of binge watching all of The Durrells in four days ...  
I had originally planned for this to be just a from Julia’s perspective fiction, however it turns out that David wants his thoughts to be here too.  
Please enjoy, let me know if you do. Thanks for the encouragement so far.

His head leans against the back of seat, his eyes are closed, he’s somewhere between asleep and awake. Caught in the half state of wanting to be asleep but then also wanting to be awake. But also realising that this isn’t the right place for the deepest of sleep. It is a public place after all, a train nonetheless and he has his children with him.

His head slides to the side and catches the side of the seat he is sitting in. His neck cracks as it settles into the new sleeping position. He breathes deeply, his eyes still closed.

The rattle of the train wheels on the track is soothing. Something it hasn’t always been. It doesn’t sound as much like the rapid noise of gunfire. It just sounds like a train, which is what it should sound like. Because that is what he is on. He is on a train; back home from visiting his parents again. 

It has been awhile since he has been on a train, especially one coming from Glasgow. The last time he went to see his hometown, well, he’d driven. It had seemed a better idea at the time. Avoidance of trains had been high on his preferences in the last six months; but five toilet stops for Ella and Charlie in only the first two hours and it had been more of a disaster than anything else. At least on the train there is a bathroom, however by his count, Ella has only been once since they left and Charlie not at all.

A bathroom, just like the one where he remembers that everything had changed.

But this time, when his Mum had called to ask him to come home; he’d decided; he’d realised, he couldn’t avoid trains forever.

So, they’d got back on the train.

The journey up there had been fine, it had been daylight, they’d all looked out the window, they’d eagerly chatted about the food that would have been waiting for them and finally when they’d all got too bored of all that they’d all counted the number of sheep that they had seen just standing in the fields beside the train line. 

But now they are coming back home again. It is dark outside and when he had closed his eyes; both Charlie and Ella had been asleep.

It feels like a strange sense of déjà vu. 

Like he's been here before.

But of course, he has, he's been on many trains.

But only one that changed his life.

\---

He is distracted from his thoughts by the sound of muffled voices and the sound of childish giggles, his children are awake. He feels a hand on his, “Dad?” the voice beside him questions.

His eyes open slowly, adjusting to the harsh light of the carriage, he runs a hand through his hair and over his eyes.

“You,” Ella begins with a smile, “were snoring." 

David shakes his head, “I weren’t.”

His daughter smiles and nods her head rapidly, “I heard you.” She responds, her eyes narrowing at him, in a way that reminds him scarily of his ex-wife.

“Charlie,” he begins, turning his attention to his son who is seated opposite, not that he can see his face, his features are hidden behind the large book he is holding, “back me up here,” he says towards Charlie.

Charlie raises his eyes from the page, “Ella is right.” 

David’s mouth drops open in mock protest, before he reaches out and takes the book from Charlie’s grip. He turns his head and stares at the pages, realising that Charlie is now reading the book that he himself brought for the journey, he questions his son, “this isn’t yours?”

Charlie shakes his head, “I read all of mine,” he adds simply, pointing at the two books in front of him. 

David smiles, his son, who hated reading with a passion, now reads just because he _can _and in the three days they’d been away, Charlie had finished two whole books. 

A feeling of wistfulness, of silent appreciation crosses his mind, followed by the old feeling of longing. Longing for someone who isn’t here anymore. 

He pushes the thought away, he can’t think about her right now. Not here, not now. 

Thoughts about her, feelings about her belong with the old David and people keep telling him that he’s not him any longer. People keep telling him that lately he has become a new David, but what they don’t know is some of the old David still lingers.

Even his mother, she’d cornered him in the kitchen late last night, she’d patted his hand and told him that he seemed lighter. Then when she had asked him how he was doing, he hadn’t felt the need to lie. The words, “I’m fine,” that had passed lips; for once they had been true. 

“Dad?” Ella questioned from beside him once more; cutting into his thoughts for the second time in as many minutes.

“He’s asleep again.” Charlie said with a laugh.

“You can’t sleep with your eyes open.” Ella retorted, folding her arms across her chest.

“You do Ella.” Charlie replied, a broad smile on his face. 

“I do not.” Ella replied quickly and she spun her head around to face her father, “I don’t, do I Dad?” 

David chuckled to himself, “aye,” he began, “you actually do.”

Ella narrowed her eyes again and frowned, David could see that she was formulating a plan to get both Charlie and himself back for those comments. She pulled her jacket tighter around her frame and snuggled into the side of the carriage, “I am going to sleep,” she added as she scrunched her eyes shut tightly, “with my eyes closed,” she added.

David and Charlie laughed as the two of them reached out over the table and exchanged a small high five.

“I heard that.” Ella exclaimed as David adjusted her coat and then leant over to kiss her on the forehead. 

“Get some sleep, we’ve got a while to go yet.” He whispered into his daughter’s hair, before he turned to Charlie, “you too,” he added as he noticed Charlie yawn. “School tomorrow,” he said and Charlie nodded, before the young boy smiled and then copied the posture of his sister, settling back into his seat and closing his eyes.

David smiled to himself, as he watched over the only two people who meant most to him in the world. The train slowed for a moment as they entered a tunnel and then sounded the horn as it left the confined space.

David took a deep breath as déjà vu returned once more. He and his children, going back to London, just like they had all those months ago. He took a quick study of the rest of the passengers, everything seemed normal.

Just as it should be.

The horn sounded again, a crossing this time.

Trains; he thought, they always sound the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Julia next time :)


	3. Maggie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos!   
A few more hints as to where Julia could be in this one!

Her hands slip out from underneath the blanket, she reaches out to hold the railing at the edge of the balcony. A breeze catches the ends of her hair, she leans out into the cold air and breathes deeply. The train disappears into the night, one long horn as it leaves the station. She sighs quietly to herself, she should try to get more sleep, it is still night time after all.

She remembers when she first arrived here and the trouble she had had adjusting to the time zone, she’s still not quite used to the whole opposite time of the day and the opposite seasons. But she's started to like it here, really, she has no choice, she could be here for the rest of her life and if she lives as long as her paternal grandmother that's another fifty years. She doesn’t know if she will ever be allowed to go back to England, and London in particular.

She hadn’t intended to end up here, she had woken up, injured, battered and bruised and things had changed quickly. She’d been told that everyone thought she was dead, that it was safer for her this way. She’d also been told that she was still in danger and would be for the foreseeable future. Old Julia had made too many powerful enemies. At first, she had gone to a sleepy village, but someone had looked at her one morning, looked at her as if they’d recognised her and that had been enough. She’d needed to flee.

So, flee she did. To the other side of the world nonetheless, the few people who know that she is still living and breathing in this world, had been able to help her escape. She has been here for a few months now, this flat now her home.

She looks again out over to the city sky line; these buildings are now the view she sees each day. The capital city of the state she now lives in, but not the capital of the country. That place is somewhere that she could have been possibly been recognised, a political city, created because two other cities couldn’t agree on which one of them was to be the capital. So, they’d made a place almost halfway between the two and filled it with politicians and apparently not much else.

Julia thinks she’d like to visit there one day, but she will need to work on elements of her disguise. A small pain passes through her leg again, she will have to become stronger too, almost six months and she still can’t stand for as long as she could. She takes one last deep breath before she turns and heads back inside, she stops at the kitchen counter, leaning over to fill a glass of water, before retrieving her painkillers from the cupboard above the fridge. She pops the tablet from the foil packet, the white tablet sits in the palm of her hand. She still hates having to take these; but sometimes the pain is just too much.

She sips the water, takes the tablet and throws her head back. She leaves the half empty glass on the counter and then moves slowly back to her bedroom. She hears a low growl as she enters her room. “Maggie,” she says quietly, “it’s just me. You’re okay.” In the darkness she can just make out the small white ball of fluff and a tail that starts to move rapidly back and forth. “I have been awake for ages,” she says with a smile, seeing the little dog stretching and then making her way over to Julia.

Maggie stops just beside her feet and raises one lone paw to scratch at her ankle. Julia meets the little dog’s wide brown eyes, she leans downwards and picks the dog up in her arms. “You are a terrible guard dog,” Julia says quietly as Maggie nuzzles at her shoulder and then tries to lick her nose. 

Julia smiles. She hadn’t had a dog since she was a small girl. Her father loved them. But he liked big dogs, with purpose, that were part of the family for a reason. She doesn’t think he’d like this one. Maggie, the little white ball of fluff. But Julia likes her. Maybe it’s because she’s as broken as she is.

She’d spotted Maggie one day, she’d been walking her new neighbourhood. There had been a shelter holding an adoption day and Maggie had been there. Right at the back, until Julia passed. Julia had stopped to look for a moment and Maggie had shuffled to the front.

The volunteer had praised Maggie, told her she was doing so well. Julia had been intrigued. They’d told her that Maggie had had an accident. One of her legs had been broken in three places and that she needed somewhere where she could recover. She still had stitches and would need time.

Maggie didn’t like many people. She apparently hated men and children and there was talk she didn’t even like other dogs, even perhaps refused to believe that she was actually in fact a dog herself.

Julia had only been here for a few weeks at this stage, she was still getting used to being here. Used to the idea of not to becoming too attached to the new life she had. Used to the knowledge that she could need to move on as soon as she had arrived. She was meant to live a life now that could move from one place to another with limited notice. A dog didn’t really seem to fit into this idea.

But there had been something about Maggie. Julia had forgotten that she didn’t know where her life went from here. Or maybe she just hadn’t cared. So, the little dog came home with her and the two of them tried to recover together.

She placed Maggie back down onto the floor, Maggie stretched again and shuffled herself forward as Julia headed back toward her bed, leaving the blanket from around her body on the end of the bed. She climbed carefully under the covers, moving slowly to try and keep her leg from burning underneath her.

Maggie made a small noise from beside the bed, staring up at Julia. “Okay, just for tonight then.” She says quietly her voice just above a whisper as she lifts Maggie from the floor and places her in the middle of the bed. Maggie wags her tail and then promptly turns in a circle and makes herself comfortable.

Julia smiles as she tries to make herself comfortable. She knows that just for tonight is something that she has said to Maggie too often recently. But after the nightmares she has been having it is nice to have someone alive in bed with you, someone there who loves you; even if they do have four legs and a tail, someone to blot out the loneliness that Julia too often feels.

Maggie shuffles closer, snuggles into Julia’s side and Julia reaches out to pat her back. Her nails tracing Maggie’s fur, eventually she must fall back to sleep. Because the next thing she hears is the sound of birds tweeting outside her window; one in particular who enjoys singing from her balcony.

She wakes up a few hours later; having had no more dreams for now. She wonders if Maggie chased them away. She reaches out for the television remote and the sound of the nightly news from London fills her bedroom. She rolls her eyes as the Prime Minster speaks, she’s lost track of how many changes there have been since her supposed “death”.

She wonders and not for the first time, if she would have actually made it to Number 10 and if she could have actually made a difference. She opens her mouth to argue with one of the talking points the PM has just said. But she closes her mouth. No one can here can hear her now. Whatever she thought before doesn’t matter. She can’t change anything. Not from here.

She changes the channel and the first news of the morning from her new home now fills the room. She rolls her eyes at this Prime Minister too. She would also like to argue with his policies and talking points. He’s closer after all. She listens as they begin to explain the upcoming trip of this PM to Europe, bilateral talks to do with trade agreements and terrorism prevention.

She sighs deeply and switches off the tv; that’s probably enough arguments with the TV for now. She checks the time, she has a few hours until her physiotherapy appointment, she carefully adjusts her bedding over her shoulder and closes her eyes.

This new Julia, she has something the old Julia never had, the chance to sleep in and maybe just for today, this Julia will take advantage of it.


	4. Déjà vu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> David again and a few more hints thrown in here for good measure. 
> 
> I've also written a plan of this fiction to the end now and have also written the end! Now I just have to make the rest of the story get there! It might take some time though!
> 
> Hope you are still enjoying it!

There’s a bang.

A crash.

The sound of gunfire.

Yelling and screaming.

Her voice.

The squeal; it pierces through his ears.

The sound of her voice.

The feeling of her lips on his.

The sound of her moans.

Her encouraging him for more.

The feeling of her in bed with him.

Her peaceful face as she lays asleep next to him.

Her hair ruffled around her head.

He reaches out to move one of her curls from her forehead.

But he cannot touch her, she is not there.

A dream.

He’s realised too late.

The sound of his feet hitting the floor beneath him.

Her face.

The shocked expression.

He is thrown backwards, away from her.

His ears ring.

His hands in her hair.

She’s still alive. She’s still holding on.

Succumbed to her injuries.

She’s gone.

He can never see her again.

He’s alone.

**Again. **

\---

His eyes open, he sits bolt upright in bed. He runs his hands though his hair. He is sweating, as if he has gone for a run. He’s meant to have been asleep, not feeling like he has run a marathon.

It has been awhile since he’s dreamt of her; of what the two of them went through. When she’d first died; he’s sure he dreamt of her every night. Until he’d forced himself to try and forget. It seemed as if he had to. He’d tried to make he and Vicky work again. But it didn’t work. Each of them had moved on. Their relationship had felt like a warm comforting blanket. But it turned out that it had been an old sheet that needed to be thrown away, thrown away for something new. Not that he’s found the new yet, that feeling of longing still remains and while it is there, nothing else can take its place. 

The divorce had been finalised three weeks ago; once all the provisions for Ella and Charlie had been agreed to. Joint custody, finances, holidays; all had been agreed. David had them for the long weekend in Scotland, he’d then taken them to their respective schools yesterday morning and then Vicky had been there to pick them up in the afternoon.

He scratches at his face. He wonders why she has returned to haunt his dreams once more. It has almost been six months since that day at St. Matthew’s. Months of proving himself capable have passed, months of therapy have passed, months of following another skipper around have passed. 

Earlier today he had been called to CSI Willingham’s office; his new boss. He thinks he’s okay for a boss. But then, for the most part he’d also thought that about Craddock and look what she had done. Willingham seems trustworthy at the moment, but anything is possible. He should know.

But all Willingham had to say today was that David had passed his probation. He can be a skipper again. His proving of himself is over. They trust him again. Or at least they tell him they do. He meets his new principal tomorrow. They are only temporary. Here in London for bilateral government talks. They are to be here for just four days. They will also have their own security, brought with them from the other side of the world. So, technically he’s not completely back in charge of someone’s protection. But it’s a start. If he does well here; he can get his old role back; he thinks he wants it back, if he doesn’t then why has he fought so hard to get back here.

He sighs. That’s why she’s back in his dreams. A train, a return to the skipper role, it’s that same sense of déjà vu. It is the same pattern of the events leading and then concluding with the death of the Right Honourable Julia Montague MP; his principal. Or as he had come to know her as; just Julia. 

He raises both of his arms and interlocks his fingers behind his head, leaning back against the headboard of his bed. He closes his eyes again and for just a moment he lets himself think about her, about Julia. About what she and he shared.

He thinks about their nights at The Blackwood, the times that their eyes met through the glass walls of her office, their time together in the ministerial car, the sound of her laughter; not that he had heard her laugh enough, the sight of her with her thumb in her mouth as they ate fish and chips together, the feeling of her fingers interlocked with his; the breathless sound of her voice, whispering in his ear.

He opens his eyes again quickly; the feeling of longing is back again. This is why he tries not to think of her any longer. He tries to think of his new challenge instead, but he still can’t help thinking of what he had done just before he met Julia for the first time.

If he follows the same method then he should be looking at the background and then the voting record of his new principal. The PM of a foreign other side of the world country. But this time David hasn’t even bothered, he doesn’t even know what he looks like. Not like the last time. He laughs mirthfully, he won’t make another set of mistakes, he will not lose another principal. It will not be his fault again. No matter how many times he is exonerated, how many times he is told that he had nothing to do with her death, he can’t help but still feel guilt. She was his principal. He should have been able to protect her. He couldn’t. He won’t do that again. 

She was also more than just his principal. Exactly what she was to him, he struggles to put into words. Dry land when he was drowning? A distraction? Or was she just Julia? And he doesn’t need to put what they were into words, because she’s gone and it doesn’t matter now. 

He doesn’t bother to get out of bed, he doesn’t go in search of his computer. He will meet the new principal tomorrow, without prior ideas, without prejudice, he will judge the man on what he sees of him and of that alone.

He closes his eyes again and sinks back into his bed, just as the alarm blares from the bedside table. He reaches out one lone hand and slams his fingers down on the snooze button, making the infernal noise stop. Apparently, it is already tomorrow. He throws the covers back and edges himself to the side of the bed, his feet touch the carpet below him as he runs his hands over his face and through his hair once again. 

Skipper PS Budd is to return. He takes a deep breath, he focuses on the here and now as his therapist has taught him. He stands from his bed and moves towards the bathroom and before he knows it he is back in his car and headed to meet his new principal. As he drives, the memories of his former still linger; perhaps he can still hear her voice in his head. He shuffles his memories to the side, concentrating instead on the music playing from the car radio.

His last thought as he steps from his car, is will she haunt his dreams again tonight? He doesn’t know if he wants her to, or if he doesn’t. But before he can decide on what he would prefer he is distracted by CSI Willingham, who calls out to him and explains that his new principal is arriving at the airport in approximately two hours’ time and David is expected to be there to greet him.

David simply nods and moves inside. He has a job to do and he’d better get started.


End file.
